RABIN
SQUARE
in
Tel
Aviv
has
seen
many
demonstrations,
but
none
quite
like
last
Saturday’s.

It
has
nothing
to
do
with
the
event
which
gave the square
its
name:
the
huge
rally
for
peace
at the end of which
Yitzhak
Rabin
was assassinated.
It
was
different
in
every
respect.

It
was
a
joyous
occasion.
Dozens
of
NGOs,
many
of
them
small,
some
of
them
slightly
larger,
each
with
a
different
agenda,
came
together
in
an
effort
to
restart
last
year's
social
protest.
But
it
was
not
a
continuation
of
last
year’s
Israeli
Spring
by
any
means.

Last
year’s
upheaval
was
quite
unplanned.
A
young
woman,
Daphni
Leef,
could
not
pay
her
rent
and so she
put
up
a
small
tent
in
Rothschild
Boulevard,
five
minutes’
walk
from
Rabin
Square.
She
had
obviously
struck
a
chord,
because
within
days
hundreds
of
tents
had
sprung
up
in
the
boulevard
and
all
over
the
country.
It
ended
in
a
huge
demonstration,
called
the
“March
of
Half
a
Million”,
which
led
to
the
setting
up
of
a
government
commission,
which
made
a
list
of
suggestions
to
relieve
social
injustice.
Only
a
small
fraction
of
them
were
put
into
practice.

The
whole
effort
called
itself
“apolitical”,
rebuffed
politicians
of
all
stripes,
and
resolutely
refused
to
deal
with
any
national
problem
such
as
peace
(what’s
that?),
occupation,
settlements
and
such.

All
decisions
were
made
by
an
anonymous
leadership
grouped
around
Daphni.
Some
of
the
names
became
known,
others
did
not.
The
masses
who took part
were
quite
content
to
accept
their
dictates.

NO
MORE.
This
year’s
new
initiative
has
no
obvious
leadership
at
all.
There
was
no
central
tribune,
no
central
speakers.
It
resembled
London’s
Hyde
Park
Corner,
where
anyone
can
climb on
a
chair
and
preach
his
or
her
gospel.
Each
group
had
its
own
stand
where
its
flyers
were
displayed,
each
had
its
own
name,
its
own
agenda,
its
own
speakers
and
its
own
guides
(since
we
should
not
call
them
leaders).

Since
the
square
is
big
and
the
audience
amounted
to
some
thousands,
it
worked.
Many
different
–
and
some
contradictory
-
versions
of
social
justice
were
advocated,
from
a
group
called
“Revolution
of
Love”
(everybody
should
love
everybody)
to
a
group
of
anarchists
(all
governments
are
bad,
elections
are
bad
too).

They
all
agreed
only
on
one
point:
they
were
all
“apolitical”,
all
shrank
back
from
the
taboo
subjects
(see
above).

Gideon
Levy
called
the
scene
“chaotic”
and
was
immediately
attacked
by
the
protesters
as
lacking
understanding
(with
a
hint
that
he
was
too
old
to
understand.)
Chaos
is
wonderful.
Chaos
is
real
democracy.
It
gives
the
people
their
voice
back.
There
are
no
leaders
who
steal
and
exploit
the
protest
for
their
own
careers
and
egos.
It’s
the
way
the
New
Generation
expresses
itself.

IT
ALL
reminded
me
of
a
happy
period
–
the
60s
of
the
last
century,
when
almost
none
of
this
week’s
protesters
was
yet
born,
or
even
“in
the
planning
stage”’
(as
Israelis
like
to
put
it).

At
the
time,
Paris
was
seized
by
a
passion
for
social
and
political
protest.
There
was
no
common
ideology,
no
unified
vision
of
a
new
social
order.
At
the
Odeon
theatre
an
endless
and
uninterrupted
debate
was
going
on,
day
after
day,
while
outside,
demonstrators
threw
cobblestones
at
the
police,
who
beat
them
up
with
the
leaden
seams
of
their
overcoats.
Everyone
was
elated,
it
was
clear
that
a
new
epoch
in
human
history
had
begun.

Claude
Lanzmann,
the
secretary
of
Jean-Paul
Sartre
and
lover
of
Simone
de
Beauvoir,
and
who
later
directed
the
monumental
film
“Shoah”,
described
the
atmosphere
to
me
like
this:
“The
students
burnt
the
cars
in
the
streets.
In
the
evenings
I
parked
my
car
at
distant
places.
But
one
evening
I
told
myself:
What
the
hell,
what
do
I
need
a
car
for?
Let
them
burn
it!”

But
while
the
Left
was
talking,
the
Right
gathered
its
forces
under
Charles
de
Gaulle,
a
million
Rightists
marched
down
the
Champs
Elisees.
The
protest
petered
out,
leaving
only
a
vague
longing
for
a
better
world.

The
protest
was
not
limited
to
Paris.
Its
spirit
infected
many
other
cities
and
countries.
In
lower
Manhattan,
youth
reigned
supreme.
Provocative
posters
were
sold
in
the
streets
of
the
Village,
young
men
and
women
wore
humorous
buttons
on
their
chests.

On
the
whole,
the
vague
movement
had
vague
results.
Without
a
concrete
agenda,
it
had
no
concrete
results.
De
Gaulle
fell
some
time
later
for
other
reasons.
In
the
US,
the
people
elected
Richard
Nixon.
In
public
consciousness,
some
things
changed,
but
for
all
the
revolutionary
talk,
there
was
no
revolution.

ON
SATURDAY’S
rally,
young
Daphni Leef
and
her
comrades
wandered
around
in
the
crowd
like
a
relic
from
the
past,
hardly
noticed.
After
only
one
year,
it
seemed
as
if
a
new
New
Generation
was
taking
over
from
yesteryear’s
New
Generation.

It
was
not
that
they
were unable to
unite
around
a
common
agenda
–
rather,
they
did
not
see
the
virtue,
or
even
the
necessity of
having
a
common
agenda,
a
common
organization,
common
leadership.
All
these
are,
in
their
eyes,
bad
things,
attributes
of
the
old,
corrupt,
discredited
regime.
Away
with
them!

I
am
not
quite
sure
what
I
think
about
it.

On
the
one
hand,
I
like
it
very
much.
New
energies
are
released.
A
young
generation
that
seemed
egoistic,
apathetic
and
indifferent,
suddenly
shows
that
it
cares.

For
years
now,
I
have
expressed
my
hope
that
the
young
people
would
create
something
new,
with
a
new
vocabulary,
new
definitions,
new
slogans,
new
leaders,
that
are
totally
divorced
from
today’s
party
structures
and
government
coalitions.
A
new
beginning.
The
beginning
of
the
Second
Israeli
Republic.

So
I
should
be
happy,
watching
a
dream
coming
true.

And
indeed,
I
am
happy
about
this
new
development.
Israel
needs
basic
social
reforms.
The
gap
between
very
rich
and
very
poor
is
intolerable.
A
broad
new
social
movement,
even
with
so
much
diversity,
is
a
good
thing.

Social
Justice
is
a
leftist
demand
and
always
has
been.
A
demonstration
shouting
“The
People
Demand
Social
Justice”
is
leftist,
even
if
it
wants
to
avoid
this
stigma.

But
the
adamant
refusal
to
enter
the
political
arena
and
proclaim
a
political
agenda
is
disturbing.
This
could
mean
that
it
will
all
peter
out
just
like
last
year’s
effort.

When
the
demonstrators
insist
that
they
are
“apolitical”
-
what
do
they
mean?
If
it
means
that
they
do
not
identify
themselves
with
any
existing
political
party,
I
can
only
applaud.
If
it
is
a
tactical
ploy,
in
order
to
attract
people
from
all
existing
camps,
ditto.
But
if
it
is
a
serious
determination
to
leave
the
political
arena
to
others,
I
must
condemn
it.

Social
justice
is
a
political
aim
par
excellence.
It
means,
among
other
things,
to
take
away
money
from
other
uses
and
devote
it
to
social
purposes.
In
Israel,
it
inevitably
means
taking
away
money
from
the
huge
military
budget,
as
well
as
from
the
settlement
drive,
from
the
subsidies
paid
as
a
bribe
to
the
Orthodox
and
from
the
parasitic
tycoons.

Where
can
this
be
done?
Only
in
the
Knesset.
To
get
there,
you
need
a
political
party.
So
you
have
to
be
political.
Period.

An
“apolitical”
protest,
avoiding
the
burning
questions
of
our
national
existence,
is
something
that
is
outrageously
divorced
from
reality.

Last
year
I
compared
the
social
protest
to
a
mutiny
on
board
the
Titanic.
I
could
expand
on
this.
Imagine
the
wonderful
ship
on
its
maiden
voyage
with
all
the
lively
activity
on
board.
The
band
throws
away
the
old-fashioned
music
of
Mozart
and
Schubert,
replacing
it
with
hard
rock.
Anarchists
dismiss
the
captain
and
elect
a
new captain every
day.
Others
reject
the
Boat
Drill
–
a
ridiculous
exercise
on
the
“unsinkable”
ship
-
and
organize
sport
events
instead.
Also
the
scandalous
difference
between
first
class
and
the
steering
passengers
is
abolished.
And
so
on.
All
deserving
causes.

But
somewhere
along
the
route
there
lurks
an
iceberg.

Israel
is
heading
towards
an
iceberg,
bigger
than
any
of
those
in
the
path
of
the
Titanic.
It
is
not
hidden.
All
its
parts
are
clearly
visible
from
afar.
Yet
we
are
sailing
straight
towards
it,
full
steam
ahead.
If
we
don’t
change
course,
the
State
of
Israel
will
destroy
itself
–
turning
first
into
an
apartheid-state
monster
from
the
Mediterranean
to
the
Jordan,
and
later,
perhaps,
into
a
bi-national
Arab-majority
state
from
the
Jordan
to
the
Mediterranean.

Does
this
mean
that
we
must
give
up
the
struggle
for
social
justice?
Certainly
not.
The
fight
for
social
solidarity,
for
better
education,
for
improved
medical
services,
for
the
poor
and
the
handicapped,
must
go
on,
every
day,
every
hour.

But
to be successful
this
struggle
must
be
a
part
-
politically
and
ideologically
-
of
the
wider
struggle
for
the
future
of
Israel,
for
ending
the
occupation,
for
peace.